


Postcards From Portia

by crystal_mamaleh



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:44:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystal_mamaleh/pseuds/crystal_mamaleh
Summary: I wonder what the stories behind all her postcards were?~***** SPOILER ALERT for the content of said postcards in canon **********





	1. The Town Square (Explicit)

**Author's Note:**

> ✿ ✿ ❀¸¸¸.•*´¯`❀ ✿ Ratings will vary ✿❀¸¸¸.•*´¯`❀✿

_I’ll shout your name to the rooftops any time ~  
Portia ♡ _

It was your first midnight rendezvous at the square.  
You’d sneaked off to her cottage before on several occasions after bidding the Countess goodnight, and returned well before first light.  
But just after breakfast this morning as you’d passed each other through the otherwise-vacant palace corridor, the handmaid catches you by the arm — just firmly enough to stop you, slides her fingers to your collar, and goes to her tip-toes to reach your ear. Her voice is soft, but you can feel the anticipation in her voice like electricity:  
“City Square, midnight. Don’t be late.”  
She drops to her resting height, about nose-level to you, and in a fleeting moment through her hooded blue eyes you can almost guess she’d just undressed you entirely in her mind’s eye. In the next instant, she’s resumed her brisk walk down the corridor past you. 

You’d memorized the timing of the guards’ hour-long shift change at midnight, and by your best guess you already had Portia’s thighs around your head within ten minutes. Your heart pounded with anxiety: While the guards would be in the barracks for another fifty minutes, what if someone else found you? After all, at the very heart of the town square was a statue fountain, and on the ledge of said fountain, there the Countess’ handmaid was, and buried tongue-deep into her sex, there you were. It would be a sight to behold. A fantastic, erotic mirage witnessed by a madperson, sleepwalking in the dead of night, would be your excuse.  
You laugh to yourself, considering no one might believe the true story, and you curl your tongue in a way that elicits a soft mewl from the girl’s lips. Then suddenly a slightly louder, more aroused one following a gasp. She releases one of two vicegrips from your hair to cover her mouth as tight as she can. It hardly does any good, and muffled moans seep from the gaps between her palm and mouth.  
You slow a moment so that she might calm down. Instead, she feels teased and deprived, pushing her hips up against you, back arching, and red hair splayed so wildly, a bundle of her locks fall into the fountain pool.  
The sound of the running fountain water suddenly dwarfed in comparison to that of the girl’s ecstatic keens.  
Your ears perk up at the sound of a voice — no, several gruff voices — from what must have been a quarter kilometer away.  
The two of you would be found out if you didn’t wrap this up very soon.  
You frantically grasp onto ether of the redhead’s bare hips, and suckle firmly at her most sensitive spot.  
The instant that follows is a cacophony: At the sensation of your lips, her core tightens in reaction from pleasure. A burning, tugging erupts from your scalp — you think you’d been shot by an arrow since you’d begun to hear the accelerating clinking of armor approaching, but it’s merely all of Portia’s ten fingers locking firmly in your hair, nearly suffocating you in between her legs. At her peak, she cries your name several times between gasps. It’s a sound so sweet, so hypnotizing and inviting, you forget your careers (and possibly lives as you knew it) were in danger.  
Just as she’s spent and she begins to come down, you can hear the guards have nearly entered the square. Now Portia laughs, breathlessly, satisfied, elated, in a salt flat dialect you’d heard once before. You don’t understand any of it but you imagine it’s great praise.  
Before you can see which way is out of the square, she is scooped up in a brisk motion into your arms from pure adrenaline, and your feet glide in great, powerful strides in the direction opposite the authoritative “You there-!” now hardly twenty yards on your tail. Portia is taken giddy with laughter, clinging tightly to you with her slacks gripped in one hand. They billow in the breeze as you run. She seems momentarily entertained by this.

You feel like you teleported (and maybe you did learn a new trick?) but with the next stride you are stepping through the door of the garden maze via the aqueduct alleyway. It closes behind you, and you slow your sprint to a jog, then come to rest at a wall of vines. The ground here is soft enough to let Portia stand, and she does so in order to dress herself. All the while she keeps her eyes trained on you behind a mop of red curls. She then places her hands on her hips, still eyeing you in earnest. You would infer she also noticed the instantaneous trip to your current location from the town square. “I’ve never met anyone so fast...”  
“I can’t say I have, either.”  
She bites her lip in a grin and pushes the hair from her face.  
“Whatever I might have said at the end there, it would shock even Mazelinka.” Portia’s hands slide up your arms, pulling you closer to her as her back rests against the vines.  
Your heart is still pounding, and especially now it would seem your blood has concentrated into a pit lower than your stomach. You close the distance between the two of you, leaning down into her neck to kiss slowly upwards. “So you weren’t disappointed?”  
Her soft laugh resonates even through your own chest. “Wait up a bit more for the guards next time.”


	2. Lucio’s Wing (General Audience)

_I know a lot of better places in the palace. Let’s go somewhere more fun.  
Portia ♡ _

“Remind me why I agreed to come here at night?” You keep your voice just above a whisper. Sound travelled so well in these halls, you could hear the crackling of even the farthest lantern from you.  
Portia tugs you on by your wrist, valiantly ahead. You act as a deadweight to slow her pace.  
There’s a smile in her voice when she whispers in response: “Be _cause_ , you said you wanted me to show you _alllll_ over the palace grounds! Can’t leave any spooky stone unturned in any spooky hallway.”  
“Obviously. There’s just no way we could have done this during the day when it’s... not as spooky.”  
“See? You get it!”  
Either she doesn’t catch your sarcasm, or doesn’t care to call you out on it. She doesn’t see you roll your eyes.  
At the bottom of the spooky stairwell leading to what once was Lucio’s spooky wing, sat Mercedes and Melchior, in their usual spooky spot, curled up in their usual spooky demeanor.  
Portia moves to shoo them with a “Go on, get...!”  
But the dogs recoil slightly and snarl in her direction.  
Before Portia can try again and possibly lose an arm as a chew toy, you step between she and the dogs, silent and unwavering, staring intently into what you could see of their eyes.  
Same as the first time you encountered them, they yield.  
The dogs make way for the two of you after lazy stretches and a yawn from each.  
Portia embraces you tenderly from behind, and wraps her hands up around your shoulders. “Ooh. My knight in shining armor,” She chuckles by your ear, “why don’t _you_ lead us through the spooky scary hallway?”  
She plants a kiss on your cheek, and before you can respond she’s leaning into you, egging you on up the spooky scary staircase.  


The top of the flight opens to an unlit hallway with what can only be described as an eerie, unsettling stagnation that reminded you of a graveyard. Lining the walls were otherwise beautiful, ornate portraits of the late Count Lucio, save the torn-out eye holes through every one.  
Portia studies one closely just beside you. “It still feels like he’s watching,” She wonders, gazing intently at the Count’s face.  
You stare at the same one, and then...  
There _is_ something here...  
Watching you? There’s magic radiating from the painting.  
Suddenly a small, ghost-like body pops itself out of the left portrait eye hole inches from Portia’s face.  
_Boo!!_  
Portia shrieks, falling back onto her buttocks. “Snake-!! Snake!!”  
You hear Faust giggle from within your mind.  
_Love a spook!_  
“Portia,” You laugh as you pull her to her feet, “this is Faust. She watches over me, she won’t hurt you.”  
“I’ve... I’ve seen her around the palace. I thought my mind was playing tricks — eep!!”  
Faust slinks onto the floor nearly hitting Portia’s shoes, and slithers into the door ajar at the end of the hallway, obviously pleased with herself.  
Portia is like a hawk watching Faust disappear. Finally, she fumbles to grab your hand to lead you back downstairs. “Well we’ve pretty much seen everything there is to see up here anyway soooo....”  
“Oh no, you’re scared of Faust?” You dig your feet in again to slow Portia. “I’ll introduce you properly! Come on, what happened to ‘every spooky stone in every spooky hallway’ ?”  
“Ok next time thanks! For now let’s just go somewhere more fun, ok?”


End file.
